Poor Wayfaring Strangers
by crazy homo in space
Summary: Humanity's wings have melted like wax in the sun. The dead have taken control of the earth. Will this small group of survivors from Karakura Town find salvation, or will they lose themselves in chaos? (Zombie!AU) (Multiple Pairings)
1. Infection

March 3rd, 2015. That was the day it all started.

Ichigo Kurosaki really hated watching the news. It was depressing. If it wasn't something about the new, coolest video game, or sports news, he wasn't interested. If it was important, his mom would tell him. Like when she gave him a bottle of hand sanitizer and a condom and told him to try not to get Ebola. There were others in the family who could worry. He didn't have the time.

The first thing that Ichigo noticed was the increased police presence. No, not increase. Just the fact that there were blue lights flashing in little Karakura Town was enough to raise his eyebrow.

Two police officers stood at the doors of Karakura High School. The hair on the back of Ichigo's neck stood on end as he walked past them, shoulders raised and body tense. It was making people nervous. Gossip was heavy in Calculus that morning.

Ichigo put his books down at his desk. "What's with the cops at the door?" he asked, apparently rekindling a conversation.

"Someone probably posted a picture of a gun on Facebook," Keigo drawled, leaning his head on his hand. "Those cops are just bored."

"If you ask them what's going on, they just tell you to go to your classroom. It's really weird." Orihime Inoue turned in her seat to face the rest of the class, delicate fingers playing with the ends of thin strawberry blonde hair. "It's scaring people."

Chatter continued for a few minutes. Ichigo really didn't care what the cops were doing there, but he had to admit that it was strange. The energy of the day seemed thrown off. Even his teacher seemed flustered. Keigo was probably right. There was probably some unhinged student running around. It was hard to go about business as usual, but Ichigo knew that dwelling on it wouldn't help anyone. So he went to math class. He went to American History. He- sadly- went to art. And he went to gym class.

As always, he walked home alone. Not that he was an anti-social person, mind you. Quite the opposite. He just liked to take the time to clear his head. His route was fairly tranquil- he'd go around the back of the school, walk the two miles to the hospital, go pat the library, then take Ridgeview all the way to the cul-de-sac. He'd memorized the route as a young child. It was brainless.

You know what was on his mind that day? Nothing too important, really. Just dating. He had a few crushes, as boys his age tended to suffer from. One happened to be the girl in his Calculus class. Orihime, remember? She was cute. Kind of annoying, though. Then there was a girl in his P.E. class. She wasn't from California. Hell, she was from the other side of the country. Her name was Rukia Kuchiki, and she was the walking embodiment of badassery. But he didn't really think she was all that pretty, in his opinion. She was tomboyish, and it was kind of weird that she reminded him of his younger sister.

Flashing lights in his peripheral vision pulled him out of his thoughts. Part of the hospital entrance was blockaded, and guarded by- were those members of the SWAT Team? Curious, Ichigo jogged closer. He watched as the back doors of the ambulance opened. Armed guards escorted a man off the vehicle. He was handcuffed, and there was a mask around the lower half of his face. Mask? No, that was the wrong word. It was more like a muzzle. The man stumbled awkwardly after the guards, pushed along by one more.

"Strange, isn't it?"

Ichigo damn near jumped out of his skin. "God fucking dammit, Ishida," he growled, turning quickly. "You're going to give someone a heart attack."

Uryuu Ishida was an exchange student from Germany. Well, he wasn't an exchange student in the typical sense. They were stuck with him. He'd been raised in Germany by his mother, and when she passed, he was sent off to America to live with his father. At least, that was the story circulating around the school. There was also the option that he was a 'creepy German spy.'

Either option was viable.

Awkwardly, Uryuu pushed the thin, rectangular glasses up his thin, pointed nose. "I was watching, too. This must be why the school was guarded today."

Ichigo scoffed. "Because some Hannibal Lecter wannabe was going to the hospital for a checkup?" he asked, eyebrow raised. "Damn, Karakura's Finest must have a lot of dangerlust if they feel the need to protect the little children from maybe seeing a crazy man drugged out of his balls," Ichigo stated, turning his attention away from his classmate.

"I think this is more than it does appear," Uryuu stated, accent prominent. "My father works for the hospital. He directs the medical.. part." It was unfortunate that English wasn't his first language. It was hard for Ichigo to take him seriously. "Something weird happened, I think, but he won't tell me what is weird."

Bringing his hand to his eye, Ichigo resisted the urge to both roll his eyes and punch the glasses off of Uryuu's awkward face. "It's nothing. Hell, we shouldn't even be watching this. I'm sure it's some kind of breach of confidentiality. Go home, Ishida."

Uryuu pursed his lips, but turned on his well-polished heels. Ichigo tried to forget what he experienced.

March 17th, 2015 was when the silence was broken.

But, as always, Ichigo wouldn't have known if his mother hadn't told him. She came into his room, a bowl of soup in her hands. Ichigo had been hard at work on his homework, headphones vibrating with the heavy bass of the music he chose to listen to in order to drown out his own mental screaming. English was his least favourite subject, and he truly resented having to do grammar exercises at sixteen fucking years old.

He saw her coming out of the corner of his eye, paused his iPod, and turned to face her as he pulled the headset off.

"Hey," he greeted jovially.

She smiled at him, placing the soup on his desk. "I thought that chicken soup would be just the thing to ward off that creepy sickness they're keeping at the hospital."

Ichigo looked confused, but pulled his food closer and ate a spoonful. "What're you talking about? Did they mash AIDS with Ebola?" he joked. Masaki ruffled her son's hair.

"You haven't seen the news report?" she asked. He shook his head. She scooted his wheeled desk chair over with her foot, and crouched down at his computer, typing in the web address for a popular news outlet. She pulled up an article, and gave her son time to read it over.

Never a patient reader, Ichigo skimmed the article, only gleaning the important parts.

"Patient presented at his local Emergency Room with a high fever. Was admitted.. vitals lost," he muttered, reading along. "Patient was taken to the morgue and- revived?" Okay, this was getting interesting. "..Blaming the mistake on a clerical error. Patient was transferred to Karakura Hospital due to extreme aggressive behavior and- mom, this is dumb," Ichigo groaned, breaking away from the TV. Masaki laughed.

"It's quite the work of fiction, isn't it? Some nurse told the news station, and they decided to pick it up for the entertainment value." She kissed her son on the head. "Still. Eat your soup, honey. It'll protect you from the Ebola AIDS," she winked, pulling the door shut behind her.

There was something about a mother's soup. It was comforting without fail. With a roll of his eyes, Ichigo closed out of the poor excuse of a tabloid article that his mom had shared. That was his mom, though. She was a wealth of knowledge- and a wealth of totally stupid, goofy, gossip. He dropped his spoon and picked up the bowl to sip from, and went back to his homework.

* * *

><p>Tense was a good way to describe the following weeks. Ichigo's father was a doctor. That job came with a hell of a lot of stress, and it wasn't uncommon for Ichigo to catch his dad sneaking a cigarette before coming inside for the evening. It was, however, uncommon for Isshin Kurosaki to sneak out after dinner, before bed, before breakfast.. and suck down two or three cigarettes in one go.<p>

When asked, Isshin threw on that cheesy smile he was so famous for, and made a big, grandiose scene about how much the world rested on his shoulders. Though his sisters ate it up, Ichigo could see the pain haunting his father's eyes.

"I'm headed off to school!" Ichigo called, jogging down the stairs, his backpack hanging awkwardly off of one shoulder.

"Come straight home, will you, honey?" Masaki's voice stopped him at the door.

Ichigo turned, running fingers through his hair and adjusting his bookbag. "I was going to study at Chad's today." It wasn't a statement to strengthen his mother's confidence, but a question meant to prompt a reason for the perceived non-sequitur. Chad was someone his mother knew and trusted.

Masaki turned toward him, shaking her head and smiling. "I just have a nice dinner planned, that's all."

That afternoon, as Ichigo walked back from school, he was joined by a guest.

"Have you noticed anyone acting weird?" Ichigo asked, looking down at the girl at his side. She was significantly shorter than him, not even reaching his shoulder. She shrugged.

"Do you know how long it took me to notice the regular brands of weird around this place?" came the reply. "I have to know what's considered normal to know what's off."

Ichigo groaned. "Okay, then. God. Have you noticed anything really out of the ordinary?" he asked. "You've been here for, like, a year, Rukia. You know when people are out of their right minds."

Rukia took a moment to ponder. "Well.. I sit next to Ishida in Chemistry. He's been fiddling with the cross he wears on his wrist and putting on a shit ton of hand sanitizer," she suggested. Ichigo rolled his eyes.

"I should have mentioned. Ishida doesn't count. Everything that kid does is weird."

They both went silent as, speak of the Devil, Uryuu Ishida lightly shoved past them, shooting them an unreadable expression before moving on. Rukia groaned.

"Great. Now I feel like a dick," Ichigo sighed.

"You did bad, and you should feel bad."

* * *

><p>Sundays were the one day of rest he was granted. All other mornings, he was a slave to his alarm, or his father would either wake him at the asscrack of dawn with a kick to the shin. His brow clenched, however, as he opened his eyes to the feeling of hands on his shoulders and yelling in his ear.<p>

"Ichigo! Ichigo, get your ass out of this bed this instant," his father barked, pulling away his blankets. Thoroughly disoriented, Ichigo threw a punch, only to be neutralized before making contact.

"What's-"

Isshin threw clothes onto the floor from inside of Ichigo's drawers. "Pack what you can, but pack light. We need to-"

"Is something on fire?" Ichigo asked, hopping out of bed and grabbing a shirt and pair of jeans of questionable cleanliness. Isshin paused for a moment.

"Ichigo. Look out your window. Slowly. Don't attract attention."

Nodding slowly, brain still working on connecting everything, he made his way to the window. He crouched down, and pulled the blinds back.

Very funny, subconscious. Ichigo couldn't help but grin. He was still asleep, wasn't he? Strange, how vivid the dream was. He could feel his heart beat through his ribcage. He could hear his father scrambling behind him. He could manipulate the window covering in his hand. He could see the bloodied, shambling men, women, and children roaming the street like a stampede, or a migration.

Fear clenched at his heart. If it were a dream, he'd have awoken by then.

"Ichigo. Take your mother and your sisters, and stay in the house. Do not go into the clinic." Isshin's words were firm and deliberate.

"No. Fuck that. Where are you going?" Ichigo demanded. Isshin held his son's shoulders.

"Ichigo, you have to listen to me. I'm going to the hospital," he explained.

That answer didn't satisfy Ichigo. "Really, dad? Because I'm pretty goddamn sure that a fucking human barricade is a good enough reason to call in sick." Panic was beginning to take hold of Ichigo's voice.

"This is non-negotiable, Ichigo. Stay as long as you can, unless it's no longer safe to do so. If we get separated, we'll meet in Bishop. At that restaurant your mom likes," Isshin stated, patting his son's shoulder.

Without giving Ichigo time to process, Isshin was gone. Ichigo jogged down the stairs, and herded his family into the living room, where there were few windows. They were silent. Words failed.

An hour passed. Maybe two. Ichigo couldn't tell. They sat close, speaking in hushed tones, trying to ignore whatever was happening out there. The sound of claws on the door startled them out of their sense of safety. Ichigo was the first to stand.

"I have to go get dad," he stated plainly. "It's been too long. We have to get out of here.

Ichigo's sisters both looked concerned, but it was his mother who spoke. "We mustn't go out," she urged her son, who promptly waved her off in favor of pulling on his shoes.

"I can handle this," he said with a firm nod. Could he? No, probably not. But he wasn't considering the option of failure. He wouldn't accept anything less than safety and success.

"I love you," Masaki said tearfully, wrapping her arms around her only son's shoulders, She pressed a kiss to his temple.

"I love you, too," came the quiet, almost shaky response. Ichigo turned to leave, slipping quietly out of the front door. The street was flooded with the dead, who turned their attention to Ichigo's brisk movements.

April 12th, 2015 was when humans relinquished control of the earth.


	2. Outbreak

Never before had Ichigo Kurosaki been afraid to leave his home. He paused at his front door, bracing himself for what was to come. The brain was funny, really. He hadn't fully processed what those people were doing outside, but he knew that it was bad, and he knew that his family would have a better chance of surviving if it was in one piece. Isshin should never have left.

His brain was fixated on self-preservation. Without realizing it, Ichigo'd taken one of his mother's larger, heavier umbrellas. He clenched his fingers around the handle as he locked the door, and slowly began to ford the fucking river of people meandering down what used to be a residential neighborhood. With no clear path in mind, Ichigo took a minute to orient himself. He'd been wrong when he'd thought of them as people. They were corpses. He knew what death smelled like, and it was thick in the air. Ichigo pushed that thought from his mind. The hospital was maybe twenty minutes on foot from the house- he'd be back in an hour, given the.. er.. traffic.

Is it possible to dress for the apocalypse? Ichigo somehow felt underdressed, like he needed to present himself more like a badass and less like a teenaged boy. The thick red sweatshirt he wore hid a long-sleeved grey t-shirt, and covered the waist of his skinny jeans. Yes, skinny jeans. He _really_ hadn't expected the end of the world. He had, thankfully, remembered to put on his snow boots. It wasn't snowing, but, fuck. Weirder things had happened.

Weirder things _were_ happening.

As he walked, he felt eyes on him. Moans floated through the air, lending unsettling, ethereal background noise. They were growing louder. They were closing in. Among the lions, he was a gazelle. Everything was covered in blood. It made his heart clench with panic.

So what does Ichigo Kurosaki decide to do? Why, the one thing that he'd always done, of course.

He ran.

About six long, bouncing strides into his attempt to break from the herd, he'd realized that he'd just done A Very Stupid Thing. They hadn't been following him. Now, he was all they were focused on. He was a target. He was dinner.

But dammit, he was committed.

Ichigo let instinct take over as he ran to the hospital, jumping curbs and practically drifting around corners. It didn't matter. There were more of them with every turn. He was outnumbered, and now he had their fucking attention.

Awesome.

As he rounded a corner, he felt a pair of hands on his shoulders pull him into an alley. Out of instinct, he swung his umbrella, made contact with the offender's chest, and turned to continue beating his assailant.

Oh.

Ichigo paused, umbrella poised above his head, ready to strike. "What the fuck, Chad?" he hissed, lamely lowering his raingear. Chad Yasutora was a long-time classmate of his, and someone he'd considered a friend. He was a well-mannered truck of a man, with dark curls hanging in his face and impeding his vision. He was visible from miles away, thanks to that god-awful red Hawaiian shirt he wore. But really, Ichigo was relieved to see him safe.

"You're being followed," Chad pointed out. Ichigo rolled his eyes.

"Nah, really? I thought I was just fuckin' Kim Kardashian or something." Ichigo knew better- Chad tended to ignore his sarcasm. But that was how he dealt with stress. He became hostile.

Speaking of hostile, he gasped audibly as he felt the brushing of fingers against his shirt. A snarl followed. Chad grabbed him and pulled him further down the alley. The alley was small and dead-ended, which Chad really should have recognized as a problem earlier, in Ichigo's opinion. One of those.. things.. followed them in.

"What do we do?" Ichigo asked lowly, holding up his umbrella.

The question was answered for him.

Before he could process what had happened, the zombie was on her back, an arrow firmly lodged in her eye socket, angled toward her brain. He stepped back in horror.

"They are dead. You mustn't hesitate!"

Dread filled Ichigo's stomach as the thick German accent hit his ears.

Of all of the fucking people who had to save his life, it had to be Uryuu fucking Ishida.

Uryuu stood on the roof of a nearby building, holding a simple recurve bow. A quiver was strapped to his back, full of arrows, and he was wearing gloves. A well-fitted black coat covered him to the knee, revealing only the bottom of his impossibly tight black skinny jeans. If Ichigo hadn't been in such a state of shock, he would have rolled his eyes. Would it have made him a hypocrite? Possibly, but he was willing to make the sacrifice.

But the fact remained that blood was staining the pavement, and there was a body at his feet. Nothing could have prepared him for that. He regarded Ishida with a look of wide-eyed horror. No, he hadn't liked Ishida, but he never would have imagined him to be capable of murder.

"What the fuck, Ishida?" he demanded, voice quivering. "You just _killed_ someone!"

Uryuu sighed impatiently. "I already did tell you- they were dead before this! They are all dead. They cannot hurt, and it is not like murder."

Ichigo opened his mouth to retort, but was cut off by Chad tapping his shoulder.

"We need to go."

And Ichigo saw the merit in that. All of the commotion was attracting more to the alley, and Ichigo really didn't want to stick around to see what would happen if one of them got their hands on him. And as much as he hated to admit it, they'd be safer in numbers. It was harder to be cornered that way.

"Ishida, are you coming?" Ichigo asked reluctantly. He didn't want him with them. But honestly.. he'd be valuable. He seemed to know what was happening.

If it hadn't been so dark, he would have seen the spark of surprise light up Ishida's blue eyes.

"...I can't."

Ichigo paused. "What do you mean, you 'can't?'" he asked impatiently.

"...By that I mean that my ladder has fallen and I cannot get down."

"Fucking _Christ_," Ichigo hissed. "Fuck it, there's no time for this. Just jump, it's one fucking story." Leave it to Ishida to be a princess in a state of emergency.

Ishida took a few steps back, got a running start, and delicately leapt down into Chad's waiting arms. If it'd been Ichigo, he'd just let the guy fall- he wouldn't have broken anything, right? The group of three made their way back onto the main road through Karakura Town, each man clenching his weapon. Well, except for Chad. He was a weapon all by himself, really.

As they inched closer to the hospital, Ichigo felt apprehension grip at his stomach. What if his father hadn't gone to the hospital? What if he was already home? What if he was out looking for him, too? What if he'd..?

The constant stream of what-ifs running through his mind was cut short by Chad stopping short, and Ichigo grunted in surprise as he ran face-first into Chad's brick wall of a back. Both Chad and Ishida were eerily quiet. It was Chad who finally shook his head and turned.

"...Let's turn back."

As Chad and Ishida both turned around to double back, Ichigo took a moment to look at the scene in front of them. Gunfire could be heard from inside the hospital. There were no lights, just flames. Ichigo felt his heart rate skyrocket.

"No. We can't. My- Ishida, isn't your father there?" Ichigo demanded.

"It would be suicides," Ishida countered. "We will find nothing inside. We will find nothing in Karakura. Do you know how oxygen comes to the operating theater?"

Ichigo regarded him with an utter lack of patience. "My father's a _surgeon,_ Ishida. I kno-"

"Then you know that oxygen runs under those floors. And I'm guessing that you got good grades in Chemistry?"

"What does that have to do-"

Ishida pushed his glasses up his nose. "What happens when fire meets pure oxygen?"

The group was silent, until Chad made a gesture of explosion with his hands, accompanied by a quiet 'bang.'

Ishida shook his head and turned on his heels, facing the direction they'd just come from. "We need to run, and find where safety is." He dragged his hand down his face, already looking tired. "We should have run months ago. This was bound to happen."

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Always the fucking conspiracy theorist. Can't you be fucking realistic for once?"

Ishida stepped closer. "What about this is _realistic_?" he demanded. "Corpses are walking and this town is chaos. Leaving here is our only option!"

"Not without my family, it isn't," Ichigo growled, looking Ishida in the eye. Uryuu was the first to back down. He muttered to himself, presumably in German, and simply fell in behind Ichigo. He'd follow, but he didn't have to be happy about it.

Ichigo took the lead as they walked through the crowded streets. He knew this route, he realized, though the scenery had changed quite a bit. And as he examined the faces of the, as Ishida had called them, dead, his stomach clenched as he realized that.. God help him, he knew some of them.

What the fuck was going on? How could an entire city fall in a matter of hours, no matter how small it was? Ichigo wiped his brow, sweat gathering from exertion and anxiety.

"...Ishida. Since you know everything… how did this happen?" Ichigo asked lowly. Uryuu set his jaw as he formulated his thoughts. Even Chad- who really seemed to be taking everything in stride up to that point- had much of his attention on Uryuu.

Uryuu clenched his jaw. "I would prefer to discuss this when it is safer. But I will tell you- though you should have already be paying good attention."

It wasn't surprising that Uryuu had to draw out his time in the spotlight. Ichigo liked to see himself as a tolerant man, really.. but something about that kid just rubbed him the wrong way. Some people just weren't meant to get along. If love at first sight could be a thing, so could hate at first sight, right?

The group stopped suddenly, as they noticed Chad halt in his tracks. Ichigo turned to scold him for stopping, but a quick glance at a nearby building made it all click. He knew where they were, and he could read Chad's mind. That didn't mean, however, that Uryuu could.

"Why have we stopped?" he hissed lowly.

"Inoue," Chad said plainly, looking at the apartment building. It was an old, rundown place. The paint was chipped, the wood floors creaked, the carpeting smelled like old people, mothballs, and just a hint of crack cocaine.. but it was what Orihime and her older brother had been able to afford.

"Are you sure you want to go in there?" An unexpected, feminine voice startled Ichigo, who turned sharply, clutching that damn umbrella. But there was no one there. He turned away, thinking that Uryuu was just sounding girlier than usual. A swift kick to the shins brought him back to reality- and face to face with his pint-sized assailant.

Rukia Kuchiki. He'd never been so relieved to be doubled over in pain. She was an unmistakable girl, short-statured and sour-faced. Her personality was as wild as her legs were short. But damn, she packed a punch. As he straightened, he looked at her with a serious expression.

"I can't think of a single person who dislikes Inoue," Ichigo admitted. "We're going in." Chad stepped forward, as if to say that he'd be doing the same. Ichigo met Rukia's eyes. "Will you keep watch?" he asked.

Rukia nodded, and whistled to get Uryuu's attention. She wasn't about to stand out there without some kind of protection. Ichigo had Chad. It was only fair. "C'mon, Katniss." She was able to ignore his angry, German mutterings.

For the hundredth time that day, Ichigo felt fear grip at his chest. The ridiculousness of the situation was beginning to set in. Zombie apocalypses had been imagination fuel for millions.. but now, Ichigo was living it. It was wrong. It was fucked up. He should be worrying about math, or girls... not worrying about what the fuck would happen if one of those walking corpses got ahold of him.

A scream pulled him out of his daydream. Without thinking, he and Chad took off, running up the rickety stairs of the run-down apartment building. It was empty. Ichigo was grateful for that. Instinct led him straight to Orihime's door. He jiggled the handle, only to find that it was locked. He didn't have to say anything. Once his eyes met Chad's, Chad took a slight running start, and broke the plywood door off of the hinge.

"Inoue?" Ichigo called, stepping over the demolished door and looking around the apartment wildly. He could hear movement, he was simply too panicked to find the source. Finally, an urgent cry of "Ichigo!" caught his attention.

Without much thought, he and Chad ran into the kitchen. Inoue was in the kitchen, shielding herself with a roasting pan. A vaguely familiar figure was going after her, hands outreached and movements uncoordinated. The red-haired girl was able to keep her attacker at bay while the two young men rushed toward her. Chad grabbed the man by the shoulders and pushed him off. When he saw the man's face, the whole dynamic switched.

The attacker was Sora, Orihime's older brother. No. This wasn't Sora. It couldn't have been. Color had drained from his face. His eyes were a pale yellow, his face expressionless. A gruesome wound sat on his shoulder, open and still oozing. There was blood everywhere. On his face, on his hands, on every article of clothing he wore.

"Are you hurt?" Ichigo asked her.

She shook her head. "No, but Sor-"

"It's okay!" he stated, buying time while he thought for a moment. "He just needs time to get over it. Chad, can you-?"

Without needing to be told twice, Chad held Sora's shoulder and neck, and forced him into the bathroom. He closed the door firmly behind him, hoping that it would at least hold long enough for them to get the hell out of there.

"C'mon, let's get out of here," Ichigo urged, taking Orihime's hand. "It's not safe here."

It was clear to him that Orihime didn't know what was going on- but she was hesitant to leave her brother behind. But they hadn't locked the door. They hadn't trapped him in there. He'd be able to get out, if he wanted to. So he and Chad took the choice out from under her. With their hands on her back and on her arm, they led her down the stairs, and down to where Uryuu and Rukia were waiting.

The first thing that Ichigo noticed was the dead zombie lying at their feet. Uryuu was standing over the corpse, trying to figure out the best way to retrieve the arrow from its eye socket. He watched, painfully, as Uryuu reluctantly placed his foot on the zombie's hair, and forcefully jerked upward on the arrow. It released with a sickening pop.

"Where next?" he asked, grimacing as he placed the arrow back into his quiver. "I maintain that we must leave this place as soon as possible."

Chad lived alone. Rukia lived alone. Ishida hated his father. Orihime's only family was trying to eat her. That left Ichigo as the only one with something to lose, in his mind. Without speaking, Ichigo took his place at the front of the group, and led them back toward his family home.

He found that the slower they moved, the less attention they attracted. That didn't make it easy for him, however. He wanted to run. But an umbrella, Chad, and Ishida's bow wasn't enough to shield them from the hordes of corpses wandering the streets. He wasn't stupid enough to think that it was a prank anymore. Not from the smell, the blood staining Karakura's streets, or the way Sora had been viciously attacking his younger sister. No. This was dangerous, and Uryuu had been right. They needed to haul ass.

"Hey. Isn't that your house?" Rukia asked, pointing to a building. The door was open, and a small group of zombies were gathered in the doorway.

Fuck.

Ichigo dropped the umbrella. He took off, pushing the bodies away, not caring about the way they grabbed at him and snapped their teeth. Ichigo tended to be tunnel-visioned. This was no exception.

"Ishida, clear the doorway. Chad, Inoue, Kuchiki- help me look."

Ichigo tore through his house, examining the faces of the dead making themselves welcome in his home. "Mom, dad!" he called. There were no signs of his younger sisters. There were no signs of his parents.

"Ichigo, in here!"

Ichigo ran into the kitchen where Rukia stood, holding a note. It was on the back of some grocery store receipt, and in his father's handwriting, simply said 'Ichigo, run.' He tucked the note into his pocket and turned on his heels. He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the panicked cry of Orihime Inoue coming from the upstairs bathroom.

There was no hesitance in Ichigo's steps. He ran up the stairs, and damn near slid into the closet door. He was joined by the rest of the group, save for Ishida, at the bathroom doorway. A dead zombie laid bent over the bathtub. He grabbed it by the shoulder and turned it. Relief filled his chest as he realized that he didn't know it. He paused, however, as Chad tapped him on the shoulder.

He turned.

His world shattered.

Standing in the shower, blood smeared on the glass door, stood his beloved mother. No. His rational mind said that she wasn't his mother. She was a shell. But his heart had other ideas. He shooed everyone out of the room with a fierce glare and raised lip. Slowly, he opened the shower door. She stepped out, eyes locked on his. They bore an eerie resemblance to the eyes that had been such a source of comfort for him when he was a child.

She lunged at him, and Inoue screamed for Uryuu. Ichigo pushed his mother to the ground, noting the bloodied bite mark on her arm. She snarled. He didn't count the minutes it took her to stand, if it even took that long. Time stood still. He was numb. All he knew was that she stood, lunged for him again…

And fell to the ground, an arrow lodged firmly in her temple.

Slowly, Ichigo turned. He met Uryuu's horrified gaze. Ishida stepped closer, trying to find comforting words. Ichigo wouldn't hear it. Wordlessly, he approached his classmate, and punched him square in the nose.

"Come on."

The rest of the group followed Ichigo, though Inoue hung back briefly to help Uryuu back to his feet.

At least it gave Ichigo the opportunity to wipe the unruly tears from his face.


	3. Mutation

Humans were never meant to live in such luxury. If Ichigo had to tell what he'd learned in the past eight months, that would sum it up. They were pigs being prepped for slaughter, and only the quick and the cunning had been able to avoid the guillotine up to that point. Humanity had been rendered impotent, and fast.

During their expedition, the Karakura Group had met others. They never stayed. Some were killed. Some were bitten. Most just.. disappeared. Ichigo liked to think they'd found somewhere safe, but that was the small flame of optimism that burned in his heart expressing itself. It didn't have much room to grow anymore.

No matter where they roamed, they always ended circling back to Karakura Town. They'd gone to Bishop, and found it burnt to the ground. It was there, sitting under a tree at midday, watching Uryuu teach Rukia to shoot under pressure, that he realized that he'd never see his family again. Life would never go back to the way it was.

And it broke his heart.

They'd found a little, run down clothing store at the end of Main Street where they'd decided to set up camp. It was risky, of course, being so close to the main road. But they'd decided that it would be more dangerous to live out in the woods and make the trek on foot into town whenever they ran low on supplies.

It was human nature that, in the absence of government, that one would erect itself from the ashes. In the case of the little group of survivors from Karakura Town, that government was Ichigo Kurosaki. Among them, he was the only one truly suited to being any kind of leader.

Though Ichigo led, everybody had a job of some kind. The world had gone to shit- the least they could do was support one another.

Uryuu could hunt. Over the months, he'd gathered an impressive collection of weapons. Along with his simple little recurve bow, he'd found a compound bow, a crossbow, and, courtesy of one of those poor bastards who had redefined 'fast food,' a sniper rifle. Not that he used it. The noise attracted the zombies. But it was fucking intimidating, and that was what he'd liked about it. He brought back deer, squirrels.. and rats, when the woods were scarce.

Rukia and Orihime scavenged. They gathered food from houses, medicines from pharmacies. Ichigo would accompany them when there was little else to do. It was hard work, really, and only becoming harder as the weather grew colder. Being the more adventuresome of the two, Rukia had started roaming out further. Orihime, on the other hand, took more time to take care of everyone. She washed clothing, cooked food- when nobody was around to take the privilege away from her.

Chad had fallen into the role of security detail. When the girls went out, Chad went with them. Though, if Ichigo went in his stead, he guarded their camp. He was the only one within the group who didn't carry some kind of weapon. Even the girls had been given knives, and in Rukia's case, a handgun. He saw no use. Besides, it was more likely that he'd end up hurting himself.

The morning of December 23rd was like any other. Ichigo only knew that it was December 23rd because of Orihime, who carefully marked the date on the calendar on the wall each morning. He wasn't the first one up. He never was. Most of the group had converted the oversized family fitting room into a bedroom. Though, Uryuu had chosen to sleep behind the desk near the front of the store. 'For safety,' he'd said, though Ichigo knew it was bullshit. A rift had been driven between the two of them that night, not too long ago. It occasionally crossed Ichigo's mind to wonder why Uryuu stayed, but he decided that it was probably just out of necessity.

Ichigo sat on the wood floor with a small bowl of dry granola in his lap, a dirty wet wipe on the ground beside him. He watched as Rukia emerged from the fitting room, beelining to the back door. If she had to name one thing that she missed from the civilized world, it had to be indoor plumbing. He smiled weakly as she returned, grabbed a wet wipe from the container on the counter, wiped her hands, and sat next to him. The apocalypse was no excuse to be gross.

She'd changed. They all had. Rukia's hair, once cropped to her chin, brushed her shoulders with a slight curl at the ends. Her once playful brown eyes had hardened. Her clothing choices no longer bordered cute and tomboyish, but consisted of jeans, heavy long-sleeved shirts, and whatever boots she could find in her freakishly small size.

Orihime had been more resistant to the fashion apocalypse than she had to the real end of the world. She braided her hair, and asked Chad to pin it to the back of her head to keep it out of her way. She had Uryuu mend her dresses and particularly cute tops when they tore- turned out that the weirdo was abnormally skilled with a needle and thread. Though, only when cornered, she gave up her love of high heels, and traded them for the 'cutest' sneakers that Ichigo could find.

Rukia's voice snapped him out of his musings.

"I was thinking of going to the other side of town today," she said casually, taking a handful of his breakfast for herself. His brow scrunched.

"After what happened last time? No fucking way?" The mere mention brought back imagery of Chad having to carry Rukia over his shoulder while Ichigo cut down zombie after zombie, just trying to make a hole in the horde. They ended up having to hide in a dumpster for hours while the goddamn stampede of zombies worked past.

She shrugged. "It's probably clear now, Ichigo. Besides, there's a real grocery store over there. The gas station isn't going to keep us going forever, and did you see what Ishida brought back last night? I never want to eat another rat again," she grimaced.

Ichigo went quiet. Rukia was stubborn. If she wanted to go, she'd go. She'd bribe Chad to go with her, and find a way to keep the others quiet. It was more dangerous that way. His jaw clenched.

"Fine. But we go together on this one. All of us." He stood. "Wake the others."

* * *

><p>It was rare that the whole group went on a run together. But, it would save them time in the long run. Five backs could carry more than two. That meant fewer trips, and less danger. The sun was setting early, so Ichigo made sure that everyone was armed and ready before noon struck.<p>

If anyone else thought it was a dumb idea, they kept it to themselves.

"We don't break formation for anything, understand?" Ichigo asked, voice stern. Everybody nodded. They walked out in a tight circle, with Chad walking backwards, his back pressed to Ichigo's. Uryuu was out in front, bow in the ready, while Rukia and Orihime both stayed to the center. Tensions were high. Hell, Ichigo couldn't remember what a stable heart rate felt like.

"Well, isn't this cute?"

With only mere seconds of delay, Uryuu's bow was cocked and aimed, Rukia's handgun was raised, and Ichigo held a meat cleaver out in front of himself.

"Easy, kiddos. You should know by know that the ones that talk aren't as immediately dangerous as the ones who don't."

Ichigo snarled. "Show yourself," he barked.

And like an obedient child, the man did so. He wasn't particularly intimidating. He couldn't be much taller than Ichigo. His blonde hair was shaggy, and hid his face just as well as the green and white striped hat on his head. He wore unsettlingly normal clothing- was that a fucking cardigan? But his smile.. that was the truly strange thing about him. Ichigo couldn't place his intentions.

"Tell us your name," Ichigo demanded. The man nodded.

"_I am a poor wayfaring stranger, traveling through this world of woe_," he sang with a playful glint in his eye. "Kisuke Urahara. Since we're exchanging pleasantries, who are you?" he asked, chin tilted.

Ichigo hesitated, but saw no harm in it. "Ichigo Kurosaki. Chad Yasutora. Uryuu Ishida. Orihime Inoue. Rukia Kuchiki." He gestured to each person. "Now what do you want?"

"Are you from around these parts? I haven't seen you here before." Urahara's head was tilted, his expression almost playful.

Ichigo's brow furrowed. "What do you mean? You're not from here," he stated matter-of-factly. Urahara brushed his hair out of his eyes.

"I've been here several times since the outbreak started. I've never seen you."

Rukia turned toward the stranger. "We have a way of not being seen," she stated, voice low. "We're all from Karakura. What of it?" she snapped.

"Interesting.." Urahara stated, and took a moment to look them all over. It was safe. There were no zombies in the immediate area- at least, not at that moment. "What if I told you that there was somewhere safe?" he asked, gaze meeting Ichigo's. He could tell a leader when he saw one. Ichigo clenched.

"Nowhere's safe," he insisted.

Urahara shook his head. "_Seireitei_ is safe," he insisted, an eyebrow raised, almost as a challenge to the redheaded teenager in front of him.

"...What are you talking about?" The knife was lowered.

"A few hours from here, there's a refugee camp. More of a small town, really. We took a college campus, and turned it into a safehaven for the living, free of the dead. We have over thirty people, and we have room for plenty more. You'd have your own room, a fair amount of food, hot showers.."

That caught Rukia's attention. "I'm in," she stated. "This could be a massive trap, and I don't give a _fuck_. I'll take the risk," she said, lowering her gun.

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "What if it _is_ a trap?" he asked, staring the man down.

"Well, here's my question to you. I could spend all day trying to convince you that it's safe- but these monsters have brought down millions of grown men- what chance has a group of seventeen year old kids?" Urahara didn't back off. He held Ichigo's glare. And the strange thing was that Ichigo didn't feel any malice coming off of the man. It felt like he could trust him. Maybe that was that little flame burning in his heart again, but it was a nice thought. He didn't have those very often.

The truth was that they _were_ just teenagers. They were spoiled kids. They were living off of protein bars, expired candy, and the rare wild animal. At that rate, they wouldn't last. They weren't prepared. They had to move, and this was the most promising opportunity they'd been given. Period.

Nobody raised any protest, so Ichigo nodded slowly. "The moment you turn on us, we won't hesitate to shoot. Is that clear?" he asked lowly, basically staring into Urahara's soul. The stranger nodded.

"I'd give you a pinky promise, but I really feel like that wouldn't mean much to you. Kids these days," he joked.

* * *

><p>The group circled back to the clothing store, plus one more body. Urahara stood just inside while each one of them packed whatever they could into their hiking backpacks. Food, clothing, weapons- poor Uryuu looked like he'd get caught on something, with all of the bows and arrows poking out of his bag. Orihime packed her weight's worth of clothes and snacks, while Chad loaded himself with the heavy things- water and ammo.<p>

"What's this place called again?" Orihime asked, hoisting her backpack on.

"_Seieitei_," Urahara responded. "It means 'the court of pure souls.' One of the people who started converting it into a refuge had been a Japanese professor," he explained.

"And they're welcoming?" Rukia asked, falling in line behind Orihime. "It's bad enough that the dead are roaming the earth. I don't need the living trying to kill me, too," she sighed, hip cocked.

Urahara smiled. "They'll be glad to have you. It's been a while since we've had anyone new. The amount of survivors is beginning to dwindle, you know."

Chad nodded in understanding.

Their conversation was cut short by the buzzing of the walkie talkie on Urahara's hip.

"_Dr. Jekyll, you still breathing? Over."_

"Yes, Binx," Urahara responded. "Headed home. Got a few friends with me. Over."

"_Friends? Please don't let it be spiders again. Evangeline still won't talk about it. Over."_

A laugh. "They're human. Over."

"_How many? Over."_

"Five. Three boys, two girls.

"_Okay. I'll have Five prep rooms. Oh. That lone wolf is up and about. He's with Jenny. They're calling him The Last Unicorn. Over."_

"And rightly so. Okay, I'm bringing them in. Give it two days. Over."

"10-4. Over and out."

Urahara clipped the device back onto his belt and smiled at the looks he was getting. "See? I told you."

* * *

><p>Being on the road put everyone on edge. Being on the road with a complete stranger was even more nerve-wracking. Urahara walked calmly, a hint of a spring in his step. Rukia looked down at his feet- he was wearing khaki capris and, of all things, flip flops. They were in the presence of a psychopath, she was damn sure. Nobody could dress like Mr. Rogers and keep their hand on their pistol at all times and still be completely hinged. Though, to be fair, were any of them sane?<p>

"_I'm going there to see my father. I'm going there no more to roam-_"

"Shut up," Ichigo snapped lowly.

Urahara looked back at him, expression calm, if not a little bit curious. "What's wrong?" he asked, slowing the pace of his steps.

"Noise attracts them. Shut the fuck up," Ichigo insisted. Urahara smirked.

"You really need to learn to let go of your fears, Ichigo Kurosaki. You'll have wrinkles before you hit twenty," he scolded jovially.

Ichigo simply grit his teeth. Fighting this man would be counter-productive. Urahara took to humming, to compromise with Ichigo's- in his mind- irrational fears. Ichigo made a mental note to kick his ass when it was safe to do so.

Uryuu halted suddenly, kicking up gravel with the force of his stop. The group turned. They watched as, without any hesitance, Uryuu lined up a shot and let loose an arrow. Urahara raised an eyebrow as the boy jogged away from the group, and returned with a bloodied arrow. In the distance, a lone zombie lay dead, a small wound from the arrow in its temple.

"Very good eye, triggerfinger," Urahara praised. "Where did you learn to shoot like that?" he asked kindly. Ishida regarded him with suspicion, and simply placed the arrow back into his quiver. Urahara's brow raised.

"He doesn't much talk," Inoue explained. "Well, he used to. But I guess something changed," she shrugged.

"Such a shame," Urahara stated, though turned to Ichigo when the boy snorted.

"It's a blessing," Ichigo joked, eyes rolling. The smirk on his face faded when he saw the unapproving expressions of everyone else in the group.

"I'm still here," Uryuu spoke lowly. "Do not talk of me as if I'm not here."

The group went silent. Urahara broke the awkward pause with a calm, gentle, "What a sweet accent you have." Did it help? No, but it was true.

When night fell, Chad proposed that they stop for the night. Zombie activity increased after dusk, and it wouldn't be safe to keep going. They were too likely to get lost, and too likely to get hurt. So they found and cleared a small house. The previous tenants had been kind enough to leave them some more than stale cereal and a few packets of saltines. Hey, they took what they could get.

The house was big enough for them to split up. Rukia and Orihime shared a bed, and Chad slept in one of his own- nobody was about to share a twin with him. Ishida, true to himself, slept on the couch, nearest to the front door. Wanting to keep an eye on Urahara, Ichigo settled down in a room with him.

"Why are you so cruel to the boy?" Urahara asked, nibbling on a cracker. "He seems to be a central support of your group."

Ichigo scoffed. "Nobody said I was cruel to him."

"Body language is an amazing thing, Ichigo. You shut him down before he even opened his mouth. In a world like this, what kind of grudge could possibly matter?" he asked, genuinely curious.

Ichigo went quiet, taking a few moments to finish a handful of rock hard Cheerios. "He knows what he did," he muttered bitterly. Something about him trusted Urahara, but his pride wouldn't allow him to speak so openly to such a stranger.

"Oh," Urahara said, leaning forward in curiosity. "He may, but I don't. I'm bringing you to safety, Ichigo. I feel that this information is a menial price to pay."

Ichigo pushed the bowl of stale carbohydrates away, standing and approaching the door. Instead of leaving, he leaned against it.

"He killed my mother."

"Under what circumstances?" Urahara asked, not even needing time to process. He'd heard almost everything possible at that point.

"...She turned."

"And you blame him for that, really? After seeing all they've done and the pain they've caused?" Urahara asked calmly. "Ichigo, to have lived this long, you must have seen what has happened when the dead are allowed to walk."

Ichigo turned violently. "I knew you wouldn't fucking get it," he snarled, glaring daggers into the man's placid eyes.

"I know better than you think," Urahara snapped right back, expression hardening for the first time since they'd met. "There isn't a one of us living who hasn't experienced devastation at the hands of the walkers, Ichigo." He stood, and grabbed the boy's shoulder. "I don't think you blame him at all, do you?"

Ichigo shoved him back with both hands. "Leave me the fuck alone," he growled maliciously, fists clenching. Urahara stepped back. He held his hands up weakly in surrender.

"You will realize it yourself, in time."

White-knuckled and jaw clenched, Ichigo turned away before he said or did something he'd regret. He slammed the door shut as he left, deciding that he'd prefer to sleep in the bathtub than in the same room with that prying asshole.

* * *

><p>Nobody spoke as they left that next morning, waking before dawn and walking by the red glow from the morning sun. Urahara swore that it wasn't much further, that they'd be able to make it before nightfall, if all went well. The entire group was tired, and they'd been tired long before they'd started this journey. And to think that there was a safe place only a two-day walk away? Why the hell had they decided to stay in Karakura?<p>

It was Rukia who broke the silence, pitifully asking "Are we there yet?"

Urahara chuckled. "Very near. See how I painted the trees red?" he asked, pointing at red arrows painted along the trees at eye level. "I wasn't on the road long enough to gain any real tracking skills, so I stick with the tried and true Hansel and Gretel method," he grinned.

"No tracking skills? Then what were you even doing in Karakura?" Rukia asked.

"I'm a scientist," he explained. "I wanted to examine ground zero, and see what I could find."

"But why go alone?" Inoue asked, head cocked.

"It's safer that way," he shrugged. "My wife wanted to come with me, but she's needed at Seireitei."

It was clear by Urahara's more sunny demeanor and quickened steps that they were getting close. A certain part of Ichigo still thought that they were being lured into a trap, but he felt like Urahara would have already killed them by then if that was his goal. It wasn't until, in the distance, he saw the huge, historic buildings of an abandoned university that he realized that he'd been telling the truth.

The place was situated on a hill, sprawled over miles, it looked like. Ichigo saw a makeshift watchtower, and a long, intimidating fenceline. It resembled a prison more than anything, but the brightly colored mural painted on the side of what had been the Visitor's Center challenged that idea.

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I welcome you to Seireitei," Urahara chirped, bowing playfully.


End file.
